


wherever you are

by Barrhorn



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mostly Fluff, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, day 5 is angst, pharmercy week, prompt fills, warnings for that one at the start of the chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barrhorn/pseuds/Barrhorn
Summary: Pharmercy week 2018, or a series of unrelated prompt fills.latest update: Day 6: Family





	1. Stranded

Though the sun is warm on her skin, though the sky overhead is a gorgeous blue streaked with white clouds, though the river next to her rushes by soothingly, Angela sighs and hugs her arms around her chest.

She’s discovered the beauty of their island is diminished when she’s naked, waiting for her one set of now washed clothes to dry.

They’ve been stranded here for over a month, and while she wishes for a radio or other means of communication - perhaps even a boat to take their chances on the open water - what Angela wants most right now is for some luggage to wash up on shore so she can get another set of clothes.

She squeaks when a warm hand presses against her stomach, lightly drawing her back against another body, and though the fabric at her back is still slightly damp, she’s grateful that Fareeha has already redressed. Then she flushes at the soft laughter in her ear.

“Fareeha,” she scolds lightly. “Should I tell you not to look?”

“Does it count if I have my eyes closed?” comes the lilting response, and Angela has to bite her lip to hide her own smile.

“Yes,” she says instead, shivering slightly as Fareeha lets her go and steps back.

“I just thought a hug might cheer you up. Sighing like that on such a gorgeous day.”

“I’m _naked_.”

“Like I said: a gorgeous day.”

A snort of laughter escapes her before she can stop it, even as she shakes her head. Angela glances over her shoulder to wear Fareeha is standing, a smile curving her lips but a very genuine concern belying her cocky stance. 

Angela had been so glad to find someone, anyone, in those first few days after the ship had succumbed to the same waves that had washed Angela ashore here. To find someone like Fareeha, who had never panicked, who shared the work equally and without complaint, who looked after Angela just as much as herself, well-

If Angela was going to be stuck struggling to survive on a desert island, there were few people that seemed better suited to be stranded with her.

It’s almost scary, in fact, how quickly they’re acclimating to their new conditions. They’d combined Fareeha’s military training and Angela’s half-remembered childhood camping experiences to build a lean-to for the first nights. Angela had found bushes dotted with fruit and watched them carefully until she saw birds eating them; then tried one herself and waited to see if it had any adverse effects. Fareeha had dug out shellfish during low tide and started a fire to roast them, and their first meal together had been one of relieved laughter and a low hope that they could survive until help arrived.

It’d been that night when Angela, almost giddy with the feeling of a full stomach, had laid in the sand next to the fire, watching the sky as if any of the stars would suddenly turn into a plane searching for them.

Fareeha had lain next to her, almost appearing to doze as the waves rolled against the shore. Their companionable silence last until Fareeha had finally sat up and covered a yawn with one hand. “I’m heading to bed. Feel like joining me?” she’d asked, with a quirk of her lips.

Angela hadn’t thought, simply replied, “Aren’t we supposed to wait for the third date for that?”

The silence this time was entirely different, and lasted only a moment before Angela had started to splutter a “I’m sorry, that wasn’t-“ before Fareeha’s laughter had drowned her out.

“With a blush like that, we won’t need a signal fire,” she’d teased, and Angela had covered her face with her hands and groaned.

“Can we please forget that ever happened?”

“I’d rather not.”

Angela had peeked through her fingers at that, trying to read Fareeha’s expression despite the firelight flickering over her face. There was something there that had made her stomach tighten, but she’d pushed away the feeling and stood. “Let’s not talk about it, then.”

“We’ll see,” was all that Fareeha had said, and then mercifully had left the topic alone even as they curled up in the lean-to.

And though she’s never brought up that particular moment, though Fareeha had said nothing when they’d found a cave and set up two separate beds of pine needles and moss, Fareeha does have those moments of teasing, of bright laughter, of a quiet honesty in her eyes. They come more in those moments when the hope of rescue fades a bit more: yet another long day without a glimpse of help on the horizon; a fishing trip that comes back empty handed; a deluge that leaves Angela soaked and sneezing, dreading the moment one of them becomes sick or injured. And so it’s easy to tell herself that Fareeha flirts to keep their spirits up, but it’s hard to deny the growing attraction that Angela herself feels for the strong, kind woman that she’s found herself with.

And oh, it’s a bad idea, it’s a bad idea, it’s a bad idea.

But oh, how she wants to.


	2. terminology

“Hey Doc! Did you get enough for everyone?”

Angela starts at the sudden shout, turning toward the door where Hana is suddenly standing - Angela wonders just how fast she moved from the couch to the door - gesturing to the white take out bag that Angela is carrying.

“I actually, uh-“ Angela hefts the bag, suddenly wondering if she should’ve asked the rest of the team about their dinner plans. They’re stationed in a house, on standby in case of trouble in the city’s upcoming festival week. Everyone had scattered to their own parts of the house, no one wanting to get on each other’s nerves too quickly. “No, I didn’t.”

Hana eyes the bag and the way the handles stretch under its own weight. “You’re not planning on eating that all week, are you? I mean, you do you, but I never thought of you as an eating cold leftovers from the fridge kind of lady.”

Laughing, Angela shakes her head, even as she remembered too many college nights doing just that. “No. I promised Fareeha I would provide her with dinner if she would rest for the day. She shouldn’t be stressing her leg too much so soon.” Angela sighs, the old frustration bubbling up in her chest. Fareeha had been chosen for the group over Angela’s objections about a newly healed broken leg, which makes it one more reason to hope that their intervention isn’t needed.

Hana clicks her tongue. “If that’s what it takes to get a free meal, then pass.”

There’s a thin thread of exhaustion that winds through Angela and makes her head ache just considering what a bedridden Hana would be like. “Thank you.”

Though she’d already been heading back into the TV room, Hana pauses to throw a grin over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Doc. Not getting shot is part of my job. You know, the one I’m really good at.”

Hana’s laughter follows Angela down the hall, before she raps her knuckles on a door and enters the bedroom, pleased to see that Fareeha is still in bed, propped up against the headboard and book in hand. “As promised,” she says, putting the bag on the nightstand and pulling up a chair. “Mind if I eat in here? Apparently I should’ve asked everyone else for their order too.”

“Please,” Fareeha says with more fervor than Angela expected, and when she sees Angela’s surprise, Fareeha taps the book. “I only brought two and I’m most of the way through this one.”

“So I’m to be a distraction?” Angela retorts with mock indignation as she starts to unload the bag, handing Fareeha her order.

“Well,” Fareeha says as she opens the lid of the takeout container. “I am stuck here due to doctor’s orders. And dinner usually comes with a show.”

Angela glances around the room for a chair, then gestures for Fareeha to move over, which she does so that Angela can sit on the bed next to her with her own meal. “Weren’t you ever taught to be a good patient?”

Fareeha laughs. “Never.” She hands Angela the remote for the small TV across from the bed in exchange for a fork. “But I’ll let you have this.”

“Fine,” Angela sighs, and Fareeha just grins at her before they turn their attention mostly to the food, only paying attention enough to the TV to channel surf between bites. Soon enough the food is gone and they’re chatting about their favorite movies as they look for something to watch, then the book that Fareeha is reading, then the superiority of almost every book over its movie adaptation.

It’s not until she’s yawning after every third word that Angela realizes how late it’s gotten, and Fareeha gently shoos her out to her own bed.

 

—

 

Fareeha insists on returning the favor when the mission is complete and they return to the watchpoint, and they spend the evening in the kitchen, peeling vegetables and talking as pans sizzle away on the stove.

“Fliers only!” Fareeha shouts every time a pair of curious eyes peer into the room, and Angela hides her laughter, glad that any color in her cheeks could be attributed to the heat of the stove.

Angela lingers over the meal as long as she can, but eventually the dishes are cleaned and put away. They stand in silence for a moment before Angela gives up on finding another excuse to prolong the evening, and reluctantly takes her leave.

 

—

 

They’ve been swapping books for a week when Angela discovers that Fareeha’s never read _Orion’s Hunt_ though everyone holds it up as an example of the movie being just as good. Which leads, in turn, to Fareeha finding out that Angela’s never seen the movie version of _Failure Cascade_ , despite that one launching a franchise that’s lasted ten years.

“I know,” Angela says with the familiar protest: “I just never had the time.”

So that turns into Fareeha showing up at Angela’s door one night with not just the movie, but the entire trilogy.

“There’s no way we’re watching all of those tonight,” Angela objects even as she ushers Fareeha inside.

“We can do one each night then,” Fareeha offers, and Angela finds herself hoping that nothing comes up in the next few days.

“I’d like that,” she replies, and settles onto the couch as she watches Fareeha set up the movie, then beckons her over to join her.

And if on the third night she falls asleep despite herself halfway through, at least she wakes up with a blanket over her and a note from Fareeha that promises a do-over - as long as the movie doesn’t bore Angela to sleep again.

 

—

 

For the first time in a month, Angela hesitates outside of Fareeha’s door before knocking.

“Hey,” Fareeha’s already saying as she swings the door open, but her welcoming smile fades as she looks over Angela before pulling her inside. “What’s wrong?”

“Not… wrong?” Angela ventures, replaying over the strange conversation she’d just had with Jesse. “Did you know everyone thinks we’re dating?”

Fareeha pauses, glancing at her with an expression that Angela can’t quite decipher. “Aren’t we?”

“I- What?” The word is more strangled than she would like, but suddenly her throat’s closed up and her heart rate has skyrocketed. It’s certainly something that she’s thought about, these past few months. How nice it’s been to spend so much time with Fareeha, how much she enjoys her company, how much she wants to be closer with her.

Fareeha dissolves into laughter, but she steps forward and pulls Angela into a quick hug, which makes her relax even as Fareeha continues to chuckle into her ear. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly as the laughter subsides. “But you just looked so surprised.”

“I just didn’t- We never said-“

Fareeha pulls back, and the smile on her lips coaxes one from Angela as well. “Angela, will you go out with me?”

“Apparently I already am?” And this time when Fareeha laughs, Angela joins in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with thanks to Barid and Archer for help with book/movie titles


	3. peace of mind

It had been a joke. “Maybe we should just elope,” Fareeha had teased as she and Angela had looked over the preliminary wedding program that Emily and Lena had asked them to review. Their upcoming wedding was going to be a very large event, and Angela had been half marveling, half despairing over the happy couple’s constant enthusiasm for all the preparations.

Angela had stilled, then turned to Fareeha with bright eyes and an expression that Fareeha was all too familiar with. “Can we?” she’d asked almost breathlessly. For all her virtues, Angela had never been one for patience. Once she had an idea, she tended to pursue it relentlessly and without delay, and it seemed she had this idea in her teeth now.

“Why not?” Fareeha had asked, mostly because it was the best way to get Angela to stop and examine the idea again, better than trying to argue her down. But also because, well - why not just elope? They’d talked about marriage several times in the past, after all, and the whole wedding spectacle was something that Angela simply hadn’t wanted.

But Angela had jumped to her feet, had paced forward a few steps, talking about a place she knew, just a few hours away, could be there and back before morning. And when she turned back to see Fareeha still sitting, she’d returned to lean down and press her forehead to Fareeha’s. “Please?” she’d whispered. “I want to be your wife.”

It was… difficult to refuse.

They’d ended up driving out within the hour. The classic rock station was playing as Fareeha pretended to play guitar and sung along with the lyrics as Angela drove, protesting through laughter that she needed to concentrate every time Fareeha serenaded her.

They stopped at the first jewelry store they spotted, a little place that seemed dim enough to let the stones that surrounded them shine. The young lady at the counter seemed delighted at their request for wedding bands, and they’d picked out two unembellished gold bands.

They’d reached a small, official looking building and were greeted by a man who called Angela by name before kissing her on each cheek, then shook Fareeha’s hand, his brown eyes warm and welcoming. He’d said a few words about commitment and partnership, then asked if they had anything they wanted to say.

When Fareeha gestured for Angela to go first, she’d shook her head with a little laugh. “So many things,” she’d said. “Too many. I love you.”

“I love you,” Fareeha had said, and then they’d kissed and slid the rings onto each other’s fingers, and it was just as simple as that.

All of which is how Fareeha’s found herself driving back to the watchpoint in the early hours of the morning, radio off, empty stretches of road laid out in front of her. She sneaks a look at the passenger seat, where Angela is pressed up against the door, her cheek to the window as she stares up at the star scattered sky.

Fareeha reaches over, eyes not leaving the road this time, and just strokes her thumb over the thin metal band encircling her wife’s finger before twining their fingers together.

She feels Angela lift their joined hands to her mouth and press a kiss to her knuckles. 

There are so many things that she could say, but she thinks that piece of paper in the backseat says them all.


	4. wingmen

“I’m telling you, I wouldn’t have become captain if I’d known I’d have to get up even earlier,” Genji complains good naturally as Jesse opens the door and gestures for Genji and Angela to proceed in first with a theatrical bow.

“It’s not that bad,” Angela says as she passes Jesse with a nod of thanks, turning around as soon as she’s in the gym to look back at her co-captains. “Just a couple of hours.”

“A couple of _early_ hours,” Genji reminds her, and Jesse nods enthusiastically.

Their school is hosting a fencing meet, and so they’re here to set up for the all-day event. Setting up the strips that they fence on, the machines used to track on and off target touches, checking all of their own swords and lamés to make sure they work properly. It’s more time consuming than difficult, and Angela’s ready with her coffee to spend the time joking around with her two friends.

But when Genji comes in after her, he stops suddenly, brows coming together in confusion. “Who is that?”

Angela turns around and sees a woman inside the gym already, down at the opposite end from the door, a basketball stand out from the equipment locker and set up next to the free throw line. As the trio watches, she dribbles twice in place and then takes the shot, sinking it cleanly and reaching for another ball.

Angela recognizes her - she’s a little surprised that Genji does not, even though her back is to them - because the woman already at the gym before them is Fareeha Amari. Also known as the star of their university’s basketball team, the Cinderella story team from last year that had unexpectedly made it all the way to the Final Four before being eliminated. There are a lot of people hoping that this year they’ll make it to the finals - and maybe even win.

The sound of the door falling shut behind Jesse echoes through the room, and Fareeha turns, dashing her hand against her brow as she peers at the newcomers.

“Oh,” Jesse says, then waves his hand above his head. “Yo, Amari!”

“Morning!” Fareeha calls back, then jogs over to them. Angela tries not to stare as she comes to a stop within normal conversational distance. She’s never realized how beautiful Fareeha is. “Jesse, I didn’t know you existed before noon. Or are you always here instead of at class?” She grins at him as he scoffs.

“Ignoring that piece of slander,” he says, “I’m here to set up for the fencing tournament. These are my co-captains, Angela-“ he gestures to her and Fareeha smiles and nods at her and Angela really hopes she doesn’t look like an idiot as she tries to do the same in return, “-and Genji.” Fareeha nods to him as well as he does a little wave back.

“Am I in the way?” Fareeha asks, scanning their faces. “I can be out of here before the meet starts.”

“That would be best,” Genji says, and though Angela agrees - a stray basketball rolling into a bout would not be good! - they do have plenty of time before the meet starts.

Besides, she can see how Fareeha’s lips turn down at Genji’s words: seems she wasn’t ready to go just yet. “But that still gives you two hours,” she says. “We’re not setting up any strips over there, so you don’t have to move.” She’s pretty sure she can feel both Jesse and Genji staring at her, but Fareeha’s perked up again.

“Thanks. Let me know if I can help,” she offers, then when they shake their heads, jogs back to her set up, apparently intent on making the most of her time now that there’s a limit. She swerves at the last moment, snagging a bottle of water and tipping her head back to drink deeply from it, and Angela’s glad that her eyes are closed so that she can’t see how Angela’s staring at the line of her jaw and neck and traveling down over her shoulders to her chest and arms and-

A hand lands on her shoulder and Angela jumps. “Do you think she’s as thirsty as you?” Genji whispers into her ear, and she shrugs off his hand as Jesse laughs.

Still, she’s grateful for the whisper, as Fareeha peeks back at them at the reverberating sound of laughter, and she grins at them as she retrieves a ball, this time moving back to the three point line before lining up her next shot.

“I’ll introduce you properly sometime,” Jesse says, his hand resting on the small of her back for a moment before pushing her forward. “But after setup. Don’t want you too distracted before.”

 _Too late_ , she wants to tell him, but instead she just shakes her head and follows after Genji as they mark out where the lanes will go, rolling out the rubber mats that mark the pistes, setting up the machines that track target and off-target touches and taping down the extension cords that snake their way to almost every outlet available. Jesse tests the swords and jackets first, then moves along each machine, ensuring everything functions as it should. It’s just over an hour later and all of the important steps are complete, so they’re taking a break and Angela’s trying not to watch Fareeha, who has moved onto an imaginary one on one drill, dribbling the ball, spinning around a defender, or faking going one way before darting the other.

“Don’t challenge her,” Jesse says, and Angela looks up at him in confusion. “She doesn’t take it easy on anyone.”

“How badly did she beat you?” she retorts, and she and Genji laugh as Jesse puts a hand over his heart and pretends to mourn.

“You could spar me, though,” Genji offers abruptly. “Warm up, loosen up… show off,” he adds the last with a grin and a nod of his head toward Fareeha.

“Good idea. Though it’s a shame to hide that pretty face under a mask,” Jesse muses.

Angela hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. Regardless if Fareeha watches or not (is impressed or not, though please, let her at least watch a little), it might not hurt to warm up. “Okay. But my weapon.” She waits for his nod before adding, “the best weapon,” just to watch the other two shake their head and exchange glances. They’re co-captains because they all lead a different weapon: Angela loves the foil, where defense and strategy are rewarded; Genji adores the speed and aggressiveness of saber; Jesse enjoys the uncomplicated but surprisingly precise epee.

So she and Genji suit up, attaching the weapons to the machine and pulling on their helmets. They salute each other and Jesse, who stands in the place of the judge, and when Jesse gives the signal, Genji darts forward.

He’s fast, and Angela spends the first few exchanges parrying his attacks, mostly feinting back at him to keep him from pressing her all the way down the strip. He’s not used to this weapon, she knows, so if she just waits-

He overextends on his next parry, unused to the weapon, and Angela presses the advantage. They attack and parry and counter, and in a flash Angela’s sword is at Genji’s heart and his sword is just inside her shoulder and the machine is buzzing, both lights showing on target.

They turn to Jesse, who suddenly looks panicked. “Uh- Um. You both get a point?”

“Jesse!” they both exclaim, and he holds his hands up in the air in a “what do you want me to do about it” shrug.

“Never get an epeeist to judge,” Genji says, and Angela pulls off her helmet and smooths a hand over her hair.

“Never,” she agrees, and salutes them both again out of habit. She notices that Fareeha is actually watching them, a ball tucked under one arm, and salutes her as well.

Angela’s glad the mask is off. She can just make out Fareeha’s small smile, the lift of one hand in acknowledgment before she faces away from the fencers and starts to clean up.

“Who needs a judge when you have a wingman?” Jesse asks in a softer tone, then raises his voice. “Hey Fareeha! We’re having a party after the meet; you want to come?”

“Jesse!” This time his name is a hiss between Angela’s teeth, and he winks at her as Fareeha looks back at them, her eyes finding Angela’s first before going to Jesse’s.

“Sure,” she answers. “Your place?”

“You got it.”

Fareeha leaves with her equipment and Genji turns to Jesse with a bemused look. “Since when was there an after meet party?”

“Oh, wasn’t there?” Jesse says, tone overly innocent. “Shucks. Guess we’ll just send Angela over to let her know about the change of plans. You know, since you’ll both have your evenings free.” He grins at her, and when she unhooks herself from the scoring machine to storm off, she can hear them both laughing at her.

Still. She smiles as she puts away her equipment as the rest of the team starts to arrive. It has the potential to be a very good evening.


	5. every moment marked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is angst and involves (offscreen) character death. I'm sorry!!
> 
> Also this chapter takes place in the same universe as _in this life and the next_ \- Angela has a psychic power, Fareeha is a werewolf.

She barely manages to cover her mouth in time as the cough rips through her chest, and when the fit has finally passed, Angela inspects the dirty sleeve of her lab coat for any new flecks of blood. Nothing that she can see, so maybe some of the treatments are starting to work.

“Are you okay?”

Angela turns to see Fareeha leaning in through one of the hatches, face scrunched in concern, and Angela forces a smile. “Hanging in there,” she says, and watches Fareeha nod and disappear back toward her own little work area.

Resting her hands on the table, Angela lets her head fall forward and sighs quietly. Well, if she had to get stranded on an alien planet and infected with some unknown disease, at least she’d been having lunch with Chief Engineer Fareeha Amari at the time the ship went down and now they are stranded together. They’ve built this shelter, collected food and samples, and if Angela can just find a way to halt or cure this disease they might be able to actually survive together.

Her mind flashes back to when she had Fareeha hold the stethoscope chestpiece to Angela’s back, the headset in her own ears, allowing Angela to hear the crackling in her lungs. And yet what she remembers is the warmth of Fareeha’s hands compared to the cold metal.

The disease is progressing more rapidly in her than in Fareeha. She needs to hurry, before her time runs out and she leaves Fareeha alone on this rock, slowly succumbing to the disease and trying to build a distress beacon for one.

She spreads her notes across the table, looking for the next tack to take, trying to ignore the little fatalistic voice in the back of her mind that’s grateful that at least she won’t be the one left alone.

\----

“-gela?”

She blinks her eyes open onto darkness, finds blankets tangled around her legs and her hand clutching the soft cotton of a shirt not her own.

“I’m awake,” she whispers, focusing on the press of Fareeha’s body against hers, on the city lights that filter through the blinds on the window, on the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Home. She’s home. In bed with her wife, their daughter sleeping just down the hall.

“A dream or a-” Fareeha’s question is interrupted by a yawn, and Angela smiles, snuggling in closer as Fareeha wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“A vision.”

Fareeha hums an acknowledgment, and her fingertips scratch gently along Angela’s scalp. “Tell that beautiful mind of yours to let you sleep.”

“If I only could,” Angela sighs, relaxing into the touch.

“Anything I can do?” Fareeha asks quietly, then with a rumble of inaudible laughter through her chest. “Want me to sing you a lullaby too?”

Angela presses her smile into Fareeha’s shoulder. “No, thank you,” she says. “I’d ask to talk a little longer, but I don’t want to wake up Nadia.”

“I’ll get her up early tomorrow and you can have extra time in bed with both of us,” Fareeha offers, and Angela pushes herself up on one elbow to kiss Fareeha softly, feeling the steady weight of Fareeha’s hand slide up the back of her shirt, resting on the middle of her back.

“Your hands are always so warm,” she says against Fareeha’s lips, and her wife laughs.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

\----

She wakes up with Nadia shuddering against her, and nothing sends Angela into alert wakefulness like the soft whimpering she can hear from her daughter. “Nadia,” she says soothingly, pushing some of the hair out of Nadia’s face. “Nadia, you’re safe. It’s just a dream, hasli.”

They’d moved out to a more rural area after- after everything. Angela couldn’t stand the city anymore, not the old neighborhood, not the old apartment. Even Lena still hurt to see, and Fareeha had been so vibrant, so bright; there were reminders of her everywhere, even at the hospital.

And Angela’s visions are ghosts enough.

This house is still new to them, though, and the sounds of it settling and the raccoons squabbling outside and the wind through the old wood still unnerve Nadia some nights. She’s been sleeping with Angela more, just like after Fareeha’s funeral, and though the nightmares are slowly happening less frequently, the soft crooning words are too familiar in Angela’s mouth.

“Mom?” Nadia’s eyes fly open, and then she’s clinging to Angela, little arms tight around her neck.

“It’s okay,” Angela says softly, her hand moving in circles between Nadia’s shoulder blades, frowning at the sweat-dampened pajamas. “It was just a dream. I’ve got you.” She lets her voice fade into a wordless hum, rocking her daughter slowly until the trembling ceases. “Better?” she asks quietly, and kisses the top of Nadia’s head after she nods. “Let’s change your pajamas,” she says. “I don’t want you catching cold.”

“Okay,” Nadia says, though she doesn’t move back, and Angela wraps her arms around her waist.

“Hold on,” she says, and carefully slides over to the edge of the bed, holding Nadia close as she stands and carries her toward the bathroom. She turns to push the door open with her hip, then kneels to let Nadia down onto the tile as gently as possible, kissing each of her cheeks and getting a wan smile she can only just see in the dim light of the nightlight. “Will you wash your face while I get the new clothes?”

Her daughter nods, and as Angela turns and rises she catches a glimpse of gold flickering over her skin.

They’d adopted Nadia partially because of that light, the same that lives in Angela, that had lived in Fareeha. She has no idea what Nadia might be, what - if any - powers come with it, but Angela and Fareeha had thought that they would be better equipped to handle… whatever came their way.

Angela gathers up a shirt and pants - mismatched, because Nadia likes them best that way - with a sigh. She hopes that she is still enough.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Angela shakes off the thought and refocuses on what her daughter needs right now: her mother, strong, without doubts or fear.

(All the things Fareeha was so easily.)

While Nadia changes, Angela puts the old pajamas in the washer, then picks up her daughter, whose sleepy yawn against her neck makes Angela yawn as well. “Bed?”

Nadia murmurs her acceptance, and Angela returns to her room, putting her daughter into bed first before climbing in next to her, pulling the blanket over them both. Nadia is curled up against her and asleep almost instantly, and Angela has to smile at the resiliency of youth.

Nadia is strong. And so is she. They’ll be okay. After all, they’re a family.

She falls asleep and dreams of Fareeha.


	6. silver

Here’s something she never expected:

Waking up in the morning and being surprised to find the other side of the bed empty. Angela runs her hand over the sheets and find them mostly cool; Fareeha must’ve gotten up some time ago. Humming to herself (it helps focus her; always hard in this time between sleep and actually sitting up), she tries to remember if Fareeha had any meetings scheduled this morning. She’s sure she would’ve woken up if someone had fetched the Strike Commander in the early morning hours.

Though she is quickly forced to re-evaluate that assumption when she hears a noise from the other room, and a quickly hushed murmur of voices.

Perhaps she did miss someone coming in. But not a member of Overwatch.

Angela rolls over into Fareeha’s side of the bed, closer to the door, smiling into the pillow as she listens for the faint sounds of her partner and their daughter in the kitchen.

She’d wanted to do great things, and Angela knows that she’s made a difference to so many people. She’d wanted to make her parents proud, and she’s sure that they would be. She’d wanted to save the world, and while she was still working on that one, she wasn’t doing it alone.

It’s when the smell of onions starts to seep into the bedroom that Angela gives up trying to wait for the other two and gets up, making a detour just to splash some water on her face before she steps into the kitchen.

And there’s Fareeha, her dark hair starting to streak with white - which she blames, alternately, on recruits, fellow veterans, reporters, Nadia, and Angela herself - tending to a pan sizzling with grated potatoes and vegetables, and Nadia up on a step stool as she stirs a large bowl filled with batter.

Here’s something that Angela had never expected: a home of her own, or a kitchen covered in flour and sugar and other unrecognized ingredients. A wife whom she adores, and a daughter who brings her joy every day. A family. One that fills her with a quiet sort of confidence, instead of the constant terror that she would lose them.

Here’s something she hadn’t had in forever: the certain knowledge that this is where she belongs.

“Please tell me you remembered to put coffee on,” she teases, and while Fareeha only glances at her with a wink and a nod to the currently working machine, Nadia stops stirring to frown at her.

“Mom! You’re not supposed to come in yet,” she complains, and Angela hides her laughter as she walks forward to kiss her head.

“Sorry, Nadli,” she says. “But it smelled too good to wait. Next time, okay?”

Nadia considers this, then nods. “Taste this,” she says, offering up the spoon, “you’ll like it!”

Angela swipes a finger across the spoon just as Fareeha looks up again. “Wash your-“ she starts, then pretends to groan when she sees that she’s too late. Angela deliberately licks the batter off her finger, intending it more as a tease about her unwashed hands, but when Fareeha’s eyes dilate Angela can feel herself start to respond to that look.

She hurriedly pulls her hand away and goes to the sink, washing her hands and moving to pull out a mug. “I bet the pancakes will be very good. Are you putting anything in them?”

Nadia points to the other side of the counter, where Angela can now see several different fruits arranged on a plate, as well as a smaller pile of chocolate chips. She does laugh at that, and turns to see the other two watching her with such similar expressions that she just has to stop and admire them for a moment. Pride in themselves for putting this together, joy in all three of them being together, the simple peace of a quiet morning.

Angela had gotten so far by focusing on just the next experiment, the next grant to apply for, the next breakthrough to discover. She’d survived as a combat medic by focusing on the patient in front of her, the next treatment, the next life to save. She’d always known the type of world she’d wanted to create, but she’d never stopped to think about her place in that world.

Here’s something she’d never expected: a chance to grow old with the people she loves most in this world.

Fareeha must see something in her expression, because she turns off the pan and walks over, plucking the mug from Angela’s fingers and kissing her, as Angela threads her fingers through the salt and pepper hair that looks so dashing on her partner.

“Allow me,” Fareeha says when the kiss ends, sweeping away to fill the mug, and Angela sighs, leans against the counter, and pops a chocolate chip into her mouth.

“You do love me,” she says, and Nadia giggles and Fareeha laughs, and _Gott_ she couldn’t ask for more.


End file.
